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Wednesday, 07 January 2009 |
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SHE'S HERE!! After months of waiting, she's finally here! Weighing in at less than one pound (but perfectly healthy!), my new book, Expecting, has made her grand entrance! Okay, so I'm over-dramatizing. I do that sometimes. Many times. Daily.
Honestly, I kind of have to pinch myself to make sure that I'm not in the middle of a childhood daydream. Being a published author. Four books on the shelves (and more to come if books don't become obsolete thanks to the internet and the economic crisis, but back to the issue at hand...). Pretty cool. I've come a long way from books made of notebook paper and glued-on JC Penney catalog people.
I also have to pinch myself when I look at my three baby (big!) girls. Olivia--8, Ava--6 (and a HALF!), Nina--3 (and 2 days). Another childhood dream (I nursed my baby dolls for hours, and I can still feel their cold plastic lips on my bare chest!)--and way bigger than any old book being published. If it wasn't for these three little ladies (and their daddy), I wouldn't even have any books. I write what I know, and what I know (and love!) is being a wife and a mommy.
My goodness, I use a lot of (parentheses).
Expecting falls into the same genre as my other books (non-fiction, self-help, marriage/parenting), but it's a bit different. For one thing, it's not funny. I know, that's not such a great selling point. Let me clarify. In my other books, I was going for laugh-out-loud funny. I get my kicks out of making people laugh. Expecting is more tender, more sweet, more sentimental. But it's NOT boring. And not annoying or sappy. It's actually a lot of fun, and you might even laugh out loud a time or seven. I love how it turned out. No matter how your pregnancy goes, being with child is one of THE most amazing experiences in the history of the universe. And I tried to capture the wonder of it all in the book.
A gal named Deena just wrote a review of the book on her blog, and I'm going to post it here because she did a far better job summarizing the essence of it than I ever could. Thanks, Deena!
Next to God's Word, this has to be the most perfect book for any woman
who longs to be a mommy! Marla has outdone herself with this beautiful
book and journal combination--almost enough to have me wanting another
baby (but not quite--and not possible:-)
"Expecting" is designed
to encourage moms and moms-to-be to learn about their unborn child and
to pray for him or her. Marla takes us week by week in development of
the unborn baby, with images and descriptions that will have you
weeping and marveling at what God has done!
Complete with
Scripture references concerning God's hope and creation of the unborn,
each week gives more detail about how the baby grows bit by bit. From
the formation of the zygote to the development of his/her teeny upper
lip, you'll get a glimpse inside...a womb with a view!
Each week
has a prayer for your unborn baby that you can customize as you pray
over your child. What better way to start out life! And Marla
acknowledges the mixed feelings that can come with a pregnancy...she
doesn't exclude the momma to be who wasn't planning on having a little
one.
She includes her in beauty and mercy and grace, making her
long for this tiny baby God has surprised her with. No matter how
conceived, we are truly fearfully and wonderfully made. I have the
freedom to say that because I was born to an unwed mother of 16--and I
was no accident in God's economy, nor a punishment.
Marla closes
out each week with space to write your thoughts on your baby and how
your life can be more like Christ's. When she talks about the baby's
hands developing, her prompt that week is to think of your own hands
and how they can be used to help others.
I only wish this book
had been around when my children were in the womb. Perfect for those
who are longing for a baby, just found out about expecting, or for the
momma who's well on her way toward motherhood, "Expecting" is the best
gift book for hopeful moms I've seen yet.
And what a tribute to
the unborn who go on home ahead of us! Can you imagine having these
thoughts as a keepsake for the little one whom Jesus called home before
his/her time? What a treasure this would be (along with some heartache
and pain, of course--but oh, the memories later on!)
I give
"Expecting" the Golden Bookmark for writing and publishing excellence,
with a set of golden rattles as a charm...blue, for my grandson to
come, Malakai!
Happy Reading!
If you're here from Rocks in My Dryer , thanks for stopping by! And thank you, Shannon, for including me in your give-away. You're the bestest! I made myself a promise several years ago that I'd never publish anything I wouldn't spend money on myself. Take it from me (biased as I am), Expecting is perfect for every expectant mama. Not cheesy, not boring, not the same ol', same ol'. I'm pretty awfully sure you're gonna love it.
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Wednesday, 03 December 2008 |
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If you missed yesterday's post (I know! Two posts in two days!), I've unofficially started a little series I like to call "Stuff I Wrote Before I Got Good." Today's edition is a poem. Ha! As far as I can recall, it's the last poem I ever wrote. And as far as I can project, it's the last poem I'll ever write. Notice the use of the word "upon." All good poets use it at least twice per poem. And evidently, sarcasm was a recurring theme in my writing back in high school. So much has changed since then.
Untitled (Marla Yoder, 1992)
Each and every morning/ I awaken from my sleep/ I jump out of my bed/ Throw my covers in a heap.
I skip around my bedroom/ With a grin upon my face/ I'm getting so excited/ I have no time to waste.
I look inside my closet/ To find something to wear/ Sweatpants and a sweatshirt?/ Oh my goodness, do I dare?
Then I fly down the stairs/ To find something to eat/ Some generic kind of cereal/ Hmmm...what a treat!
Then I bolt into the shower/ Where I sing a little song/ I hop on out and get dried off/ I'm moving right along!
When I'm all dried off/ And I'm fully dressed/ I run into the bathroom/ And brush my teeth with Crest.
Then I ask myself THE question/ How shall I do my hair?/ So many possibilities/ This is more than I can bear.
Then it hits me all of a sudden/ I know exactly what to do/ I will not do my hair at all/ Now that'll look real cute!
Then finally comes the moment/ I've been waiting for so long/ I hear the school bus in the distance./ And I want to sing a song.
I quickly grab my bookbag/ And out the door I fly/ I jump onto the school bus/ I'm so happy I could die.
We travel down the road/ Then the school comes into view/ I almost pee my pants/ I swear it's really true!
I race into the building/ Skipping through the halls/ A great big grin upon my face/ I'm bouncing off the walls.
I yank open my locker/ And grab a couple books/ While everyone around me/ Greets me with strange looks.
I rush to my 1st period class/ Shout "Hi!" to Mr. Keirn/ I open up my notebook/ And yell, "I want to learn!"
I only have one thing to say/ If you were me, you'd see/ That school is just the greatest place/ I could ever hope to be.
One more thing before I go/ I'll try to make it quick/ If you believed a word I said/ You are really sick.
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Tuesday, 02 December 2008 |
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I was sifting through some old files a few weeks ago and came across some papers I wrote in high school. Oh. My. Word. After skimming through a few of them, my first thought was bonfire. Or, at the very least, shredder. Then I thought, "No. You know what? I could use these puppies as a community service project of sorts. To show aspiring writers that even if their writing is crappy, if they keep plugging along, 15 years later they might be good enough to get a book published." Comforting, eh?
So, here's a little sample of my writing from 1991 (sophomore year in H.S.). I'll read it and weep. You read it and be encouraged that there is HOPE for you, friend!
Marla R. Yoder--An Autobiography (in case you don't pick up on this, which you can't be expected to, it's supposed to be satire)
My name is Marla Rachelle Yoder. I was born on October 31, 1975 in Dayton, Ohio. I am tall and blond and have blue eyes. I live with my parents, my brother, my two sisters, and a few stray cats. We have moved many a time and currently reside in the well-known town of Cable, Ohio. Now that you know my "vital statistics," I would like to fill you in on my personality.
I must tell you that I am an extremely shy person. I only talk when I am forced to, and sometimes not even then. I get really nervous when I'm around people, especially guys. I never laugh--well, I have a couple of times, but not loud enough for anyone to hear. I spend the entire day avoiding people, because if there is one thing I hate, it's drawing attention to myself. I never voice my opinion, partly because I am so timid, and partly because I don't have one.
I have no friends. No one really knows I exist. I'm so quiet and shy that it's extremely easy to forget I'm even there. One day, I was sitting in Biology, and Mr. Steider told one of his better jokes. It was sooo funny. I tried to stifle my laugh and ended up snorting instead. Everyone just stared at me. I burst into tears and ran out of the room. I was so humiliated. I stayed in the bathroom and cried for the rest of the day.
My teachers are always trying to draw me out of my shell. They tell me that I could get so much more out of life if I was more outgoing and talkative. They all encourage me to laugh more, to talk more, and just to generally be louder. I try. I really do, but it's so hard for me.
I never get in trouble like the other kids do. I've never even been yelled at by a teacher. While everyone else is disrupting class in some way or another, I'm sitting at my desk, behaving like an angel. I would give anything to be told to shut up just once.
Well, that's it. That's my life story. I know it's not much, but there's nothing else to tell. Now all I can do is pray that I don't have to get up in front of the class and read this.
Come back next week for Why I Don't Write Poetry.
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